Breath of Life
by scriberated
Summary: Three part one-shot series. Hook catches up to Emma after she abandons him at the top of the beanstalk.
1. A Touch of Heavenly Light

**Summary: Hook catches up.**  
**Rated: M+**  
**Song: Breath of Me  
Warnings: Sex**

* * *

Emma drew in a sharp breath as she dipped a toe into the waters of the lake; it was surprisingly warm; of course, Aurora had bathed first and assured everyone that it was quite warm - probably an underground hot spring feeding into it - but Emma hadn't quite believed her. It still seemed ludicrous that such a large lake would be warm. She looked around the surrounding bank, searching for any signs of human life. She had been reluctant to bathe in such an open area, where god only knew what was lurking in the forest. Still, it was the only thing she had at the moment, and she hadn't showered in five days. The others were fast asleep back at camp, exhausted from the distance and speed that they had traveled today. It been three days since Emma had climbed down the beanstalk, three days since she had left Hook chained in the Giant's castle. She felt the guilt tugging at her heart painfully. Trusting him, working with him, had felt right. And it scared her. Working with Neal had felt right too, and that hadn't ended well. Hook would swear allegiance to whomever would get him to Storybrooke, he admitted that much, and she couldn't take the chance that Cora might convince him otherwise.

She felt like she could trust him, and that was where the danger lay. The moment she let herself trust him was the moment that he would betray her, just like Neal had. She swallowed her guilt and shook herself out of it. It wasn't like she had sent him to his doom anyway. The Giant had promised to release him when the ten hours were up, and Emma knew he wasn't lying about keeping his promise. He would be fine. She stepped back further on the bank and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it a little further back out of the reach of the lapping waters. She bent over slightly, pulling the shirt off of her back delicately, wincing when she clenched her left hand a little too hard. She let her shirt fall to the ground, staring intently at the bandage on her left hand. She slowly unraveled it, goosebumps kissing the bare skin on her arms. The cut on her hand didn't look too bad, all considering. She tied the bandage to her wrist, deciding that she would need it to keep the wound covered after she finished bathing.

She unbuttoned her jeans and undid the zipper, sliding the material down her slender legs. She stepped out of them, picked them up, and folded them, placing them neatly on top of the untidy pile of clothes. Emma took a single moment, no more than a few seconds, to make sure she was alone. With a forlorn, reluctant sigh, Emma unclipped her bra and stepped out of her underwear, placing both articles on top of the pile. Shivering from the breeze, she all but ran into the water, which was very pleasantly warm. Walking along the lake bottom until the water was up to her shoulders, Emma finally let herself relax. It had been a long five days to say the least, and there was nothing she wanted more right now than to enjoy the warmth of the water and the sensation of being fairly clean.

She dunked her head, letting the water soak into her scalp. She threaded her fingers through her hair, finger combing the snarls out and working the dirt and grime out. When she felt clean enough, she let herself float for a few minutes, her mind drifting to Tallahassee, and the two happy years she had spent there, living only six miles from the beach. She stood along the bottom and walked a little closer to shore, only stopping when the water was at her the bottom of her ribcage, concerned about the potential for an undercurrent. She finger combed her hair, gently pulling the tangles out.

"Well now darling, I would have been fine with a verbal apology - but this will do,"

Emma shrieked, sinking in the water in a desperate attempt to cover herself. Hook stood on the embankment, smirking, his head cocked to the side, his eyes appraising her. She should have known that he would catch up at the most inopportune moment. She glared at him, sinking further into the water, with one arm covering her chest for good measure.

"Now, something is missing from this picture," Hook pursed his lips, looking puzzled. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Emma still too shocked to say much of anything, he snapped his fingers and grinned, his expression lit up with revelation. "I know what's missing - me." He chuckled, sliding his leather vest off of his shoulders, his shirt following suit.

Emma sank back further in the water. "Oh, no," She snapped, her eyes piercing him. "No, absolutely not."

He sat down and pulled his boots off cocking his head to the side, quiet for a moment. When he was down to his breeches, ignoring Emma's endless stream of protests, he looked at her curiously. "What exactly would you do about it, Swan?" Emma opened her mouth and closed it in the same breath, not sure about the answer to that question. "And before you answer," He said, effectively cutting off her pending rant. "I might point that - more likely than not - any plan you might have probably involves you getting dressed first, and that's just not going to happen."

Emma looked towards the bank, searching for her clothes which, of course, were gone. She turned back to look at him, her mouth agape. "How dare you! You call yourself an honorable man yet -"

"Emma, love," He whispered, his tone silky. "I am an honorable man, but I'm also a pirate. And we need to talk without you running off on me," His eyes bore into her, his right hand beginning to unlace his breeches. Emma turned around in the water, averting her gaze. This man was eight different kinds of infuriating, and she was mortified to admit that each of those ways was indescribably attractive. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, an image of Neal behind her eyes.

"Why so quiet love?" She jumped, not realizing he had gotten in the water. She made to swim away from him but her pulled her back gently, turning her to face him. Refusing to be cowed further by him, she met his gaze and stayed still.

"Well," She whispered, "A pervert stole my clothes and is now essentially holding me hostage, naked, in a lake." Her tone was biting, and growing sharper as the sentence progressed.

He chuckled, his white teeth flashing in the moonlight. The motion of the laughter drew Emma's eyes to his lips, her mind wandering to when those lips had accidentally brushed her skin as he bandaged her wound. She cleared her throat, raising a brow in a challenge.

"Well, you've got me here. What do you want to talk about?" She asked, having had enough of being the mouse in this game. She stood up straight, no longer struggling to put space between them or hide her body; what was the point, anymore?

She felt a brief flicker of something between amusement and embarrassment as his eyes wandered south, drawn by the movement of her straightening shoulders. When he finally met her gaze again, Emma smiled prettily, mocking him. "Well," He trailed off, seeming drawn in by her boldness. "How about telling me why you left me chained in a Giant's castle?"

She sighed, her arms crossed, avoiding his gaze. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to admit that she was intensely attracted to him, but couldn't trust him because the last man she had loved had knocked her up, set her up, and abandoned her?

"You can't be trusted," She dodged the question, hoping he wouldn't probe further but knowing he would. She tried to back up, put some distance between them, but his right hand was curled firmly around her waist. She could have broken free with relative ease if she wasn't concerned about preserving what was left of her modesty.

"Why?" He frowned, his eyes searching her face with a keen sense of desperation. "I haven't lied to you, I risked my life for you... why can't I be trusted? Have I not proven myself to be an honorable man?" His voice, low and confused, made Emma tremble.

"It isn't about you," Emma whispered, averting her eyes. "I need to get back to my son, and I can't let anyone jeopardize my chance."

"I've already helped you get the compass, Emma, and I'm here with you now instead of going to Cora. What exactly are you afraid of me jeopardizing? What are you afraid I'm going to do?" Though it was phrased like a question, Emma could hear him discover the answer as the words tumbled out of his mouth; she took a breath, looking anywhere but at him.

The air seemed thick, the water seemed warmer, and Emma was troubled to find herself conflicted on whether she wanted to put distance between them, or remain exactly where she was. She got her answer when he stepped closer to her, eliciting a sharp gasp as his left arm curled around her and pulled her closer. He leaned forward slightly, his forehead resting on hers. "Look at me, Emma," He ordered softly, firmly.

Emma reluctantly obliged, her eyes slowly trailing upward from his adams apple, over his chin and scruff, past his lips which were so near to her own, over his cheekbones, and finally resting on the iris' of his eyes. The proximity was stifling, their breath mixing in the cool air. Emma could feel her heartbeat in the pulse point of her neck, felt a tingle trail down her spine. Killian leaned forward half an inch further, close enough for the their eyelashes to become entangled, close enough for their lips to be mere centimeters apart. He stayed where he was, looking into Emma's eyes with an indiscernible emotion. The moment was intense and perfect, and it left every nerve in her body tingling pleasantly with barely restrained energy. He moved no closer, making it clear that this was Emma's decision.

Feeling his arms around her, strong and supportive, her body all but pressed up against his, their skin barely touching, evoked a deep sense of curiosity within her. It had been so long since she had felt anything quite this passionate. Her relationship with Graham was over before it really had a chance to begin, but this was different. Killian was here, staring soulfully into her eyes as if she was the only woman on this planet worth staring at. His hand, which had been curled around her waist for awhile, had never strayed lower than her hip or above her ribcage, yet she felt a fire in her skin from the contact. Looking into his eyes, really looking, Emma could see that he felt it too. They were two sides of the same coin, both with love lost and trust betrayed, both yearning for something to reconnect them to the love they both felt they could never have again.

Unable to stop herself, her curiosity and the intensity overwhelming her, Emma tentatively pressed her lips to his. In that moment a pulse of energy coursed through her body, beginning with her lips and quickly spreading throughout the rest of her body, all the way down to her toes. She pulled back after a moment, her lips tingling, heart pounding; Killian didn't wait for her this time. Killian recaptured her lips in a gentle kiss, his tongue tracing her lower lip for a moment before delving into her mouth. Emma welcomed the invasion, a soft moan escaping her as their kiss deepened. Her hands, which had fallen to her sides, gently slid up his arms, her fingers trailing over his muscles, the scars he bore. Her left hand slid to back of his neck, her fingers running through his damp, curly hair. A moment of uncertainty passed through them when they broke for breath, their eyes boring into each other.

Panting slightly, Killian leaned forward once more, in the same position that prompted Emma to kiss him the first place. "Emma," He breathed her name like a prayer, like an adulation, his nose rubbing against hers for a sweet Eskimo kiss. Looking back on it, Emma could pinpoint the exact moment when her brain shut down, when she let herself have exactly what she wanted, no matter what the consequences. This was it. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly, yanking it back much as she had when they first met, her lips leaving small kisses, tiny trails of fire, from his lips to his adams apple. She licked his pulse point, sucking it gently, nipping it teasingly. Killian responded immediately, his hand threading in her hair, forcing Emma to stop her teasing and tilt her head up obligingly. Killian, true to his pirate nature, wasted no time in kissing her with unrestrained passion, his tongue plundering the inside of her mouth.

Emma closed the remainder of the distance between the two, her body pressed against his completely, her arms circling around his head for a deeper kiss. On some level, her mind was telling her that this was a bad idea, that his would not end well; her heart told her she didn't care. She could feel him everywhere, her entire body aflame with desire and yearning for attention. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her abdomen colliding with his rock hard abs and hardening length, the water lapping at their bodies as they moved together. His lips traveled south, pausing only for a moment to bite her lower lip and make her yelp, his tongue caressing the sensitive skin, leaving soft sweet kisses down the length of her throat.

He sucked gently on her collarbone, his tongue teasing her cleavage. She mewled when his lips opened and took in the fullness of her breast, gently sucking on her nipple. She felt him smile when he heard her moan and smiled herself, her right arm uncurling from his neck to fall at her side, her right hand creeping between them to grip his hardening length. He gasped, his mouth disengaging from her breast as his head titled back in ecstasy. Emma smirked as she palmed him, giving gentle squeezes and harder tugs. He growled, his mouth closing over hers in a punishing kiss, sucking and biting with reckless abandon. With no forewarning other than the twitch of his lips into a smirk against her lips, Killian slid his right hand over her hip and under her thigh, yanking her up with surprising strength and speed. Emma felt herself being lifted out of the water, her legs instinctively curling around his waist. He remained standing, his left arm at her lower back to keep her in place as his right hand settled on the supple flesh of her buttox, squeezing it gently. Both were panting in anticipation, exchanging tender kisses as they caught their breath. Emma experimentally dipped her hips, grinding against his length beneath the waters of the lake. She breathed out, repeating the process, her head falling backwards. She gulped the fresh air, her center aching for release. When her head tilted back down, her eyes locked with Killian's; what she saw made her stop. His facial expression showed unbridled, passionate lust, but his eyes said something different. His true blue eyes were hooded, but the emotions in them were unmistakable; she saw devotion, adoration, lust, and on another, entirely frightening level, love.

"Emma," Killian murmured, opening his mouth to speak. Emma kissed him, capturing his lips, unwilling to hear what he was going to say. She could hardly handle this, let alone anything else right now. Slow to respond at first, Killian eventually acquiesced to her desires and resumed kissing her, occasionally thrusting upwards ever so slightly to keep the friction. Emma was nothing less than a bundle of nerves, her brain overrun by pleasure, her body taut and wanting; she was ready for this teasing to be over.

"Now, Killian," She ordered, panting, positioning him to enter her. He stopped in his ministrations, and Emma growled in frustration, squirming to achieve some kind of friction. He pulled her in closer, crushing her to his chest.

"Say it again," He murmured, his tone quiet and serious. "Say my name," His baritone voice struck a chord within her, feeling the pleasant shiver coil within her.

"Killian," She repeated herself, obeying. Before she finished saying his name he was thrusting upwards into her, evoking a guttural groan from them both. She gripped his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She squeezed him slightly, shuddering. He pulled out half way, thrusting into her quickly, harshly. She moaned, gritting her teeth as he pulled out again. The motions of his thrusts within the water were creating a suction within her, and judging by Killian's expressions, he could feel it too. Angling herself, Emma pushed downwards as Killian thrusted up, creating the magic rhythm that had eluded them. Killian kissed her fiercely, thrusting upwards quick, quick, slow, giving her agonizingly sweet pleasure, his tongue mimicking the motions.

After such buildup, such tension, Emma knew that this wasn't going to last long. They had dallied too long, were too desperate for release to care about time. As Killian's pace became more erratic, Emma could feel herself being drawn in with him. As they tumbled over the edge of sanity into ecstasy, Killian remained buried hilt deep within Emma, falling backwards into the water. Emma remained astride Killian as he held her close, riding the waves of her climax, as he placed gentle kisses along her throat, her cheeks, her forehead, and her lips. The actions were a touch too intimate for Emma's liking, her brain slowly returning to functioning capacity. Her thoughts turned to the consequences of what she had just done; unprotected sex, with Captain Hook, a man who could betray her at a moments notice and prevent her from returning home. She shifted slightly, preparing her knees to stand. Killian, sensing her motives, placed his hand firmly on her hip, keeping her in place. He kissed her fiercely before she had a chance to object, reducing Emma's senses to a quivering, fuzzy mass once more.

"Oh, no, darling," Killian said, smiling against her lips, his eyes piercing her with lust, making her heart race, and feel the fire begin to stir within her once more. "We haven't finished our discussion yet."

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**A/n: Well... Yes. Just... yes. So, thoughts? (did anyone catch the true love's kiss?)**


	2. A Taste of Divine Rush

Emma shivered, and she was unclear whether it was due to the breeze or the fact that she was still astride Killian in the most intimate of ways. She knew that had she been adamant about moving, he would have let her go - he simply wasn't that kind of man. But she wasn't adamant, reluctant as she was to admit it. She wasn't ready to let go of the bliss just yet. Killian shifted slightly, a small movement to be sure, but it was enough to make Emma inhale sharply. The friction, the fire, had returned; she could feel the heat beginning to coil in her loins once more. When her eyes finally wandered back to his, she felt a tingle travel down her spine, a sensation that was now becoming familiar.

"Discussion about what?" She asked, finally responding to his comment, trying to distract herself from the fact that Killian was hardening within her again -a clear, physical response to the rekindled flame she herself felt.

"Well, I think I've got a grasp on what you were afraid of, but now we've come to a new problem. Where do we go from here?" His tone was light hearted, as though he was talking about nice weather, but his eyes were far from light. His eyes never stopped traveling her body, tracing the contours of her face and her neck, her collarbone, her clavicle. Eventually, they would wander back to her eyes -and that was worse than anything else. The look in his eyes, a deep, raging passion that appeared to be on the brink of consuming her, of ravaging her, again, and again, and again.

"We go to Storybrooke, like we were always going to-" Her sentence was cut off by the sensation of movement within her; Killian thrust upwards unexpectedly, causing Emma's hands to fly to his shoulders, gripping them tightly, her eyes rolling back into her head.

And then he stopped.

She panted slightly, looking at him with slight confusion and partial alarm.

He leaned forward, his lips hovering less than an inch away from hers. "We're going to play a little game, my dear, similar to a drinking game - ever played one of those before?"

Emma nodded, her mouth and throat too dry to respond properly. He rocked his hips slightly, a slow perpetual emotion. She shuddered, expecting the insane passion that had prefaced this, but it never came. He maintained the slight rocking, creating a delicious friction that simply wasn't quite enough. She looked at him, frustration echoing in her features. He merely smiled.

"If you lie to me, or avoid giving me a direct answer, I am going to stop. Tell me the truth, be straightforward, and you will be rewarded."

She glared at him. "That's blackmail."

He stole a quick kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth and disengaging before she had a chance to respond. "Hardly. You, my dear, are more than welcome to walk away from this at any time. If this isn't what you want, I'm certainly not going to force you."

He leaned forward further, causing Emma to lean back, causing their hips to form a forty-five degree angle. She gasped when she felt the angle of his member change within her, thrusting a little more strongly and a little more deeply than the simple rocking motion had allowed him before, and couldn't help the whimper that escaped her when he ceased.

"But, if this is what you want, you'll have to play by my rules." He finished in a whisper, a devilish smile on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Now, I'm going to ask you again, where do we go from here?"

Emma swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat. "I don't know," She answered honestly. "I can't... make any promises. There's too much at stake."

Regardless of whether or not he shared her sentiments, he was satisfied with her answer. He pushed upwards, his hips giving her that long-sought sensation. His hand kept her hips at the right angle while his hook, the sharp tip pointed outwards, kept her from falling backwards. The contrasting temperature, the heat radiating from his hand, and the cool kiss of the metal against her skin, was beginning to drive her mad. The motion of his hips was slow, agonizingly, achingly slow. So focused on the sweet ache was she, that she hardly noticed him lifting her slightly to kneel, bringing her closer, until she felt the tip of his tongue circling her breast.

His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, eliciting a sharp gasp from Emma, her body overstimulated from the attention it was receiving. Emma tugged on the back of his hair, forcing his head to tilt upwards as she kissed him. She had had enough of being teased. She rolled her hips aggressively once, twice, thrice - it was then that Killian responded, hardly one to be conquered. In a calculating move, Hook released Emma's hip to grab a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back for access to her throat. His lips trailed down the sensitive skin, seeking her pulse point. Once found, Killian remained there with a searing kiss, and Emma knew immediately that he was branding her for all the world to see. His lips never leaving her pulse point, Killian leaned forward on his knees, dipping Emma until her back reached the ground.

Emma moaned at the shift in position, feeling his length shift within her, rubbing her pulsating core. Killian, satisfied with his work, trailed wet kisses over her neck and cheeks, her nose. With his hook buried in the sand beside her head, his hand intimately stroked her outer thigh, gently lifting it to wrap around his waist, tilting her pelvis towards herself. He leaned over her, his hips angling, deepening the penetration. Emma let out a shuddering breath, her eyes rolling back in her head, a keening sound escaping her throat. His arms slid beneath her head, propping her head up to a certain extent. His hips undulated to some unheard rhythm, quick and shallow, then slow and deep.

"Look at me, Emma," His rough voice called her attention to his face, which was hovering just centimeters above her own. He pressed his lips to her mouth sweetly, nothing like the domineering way he had kissed her only moments ago. His eyes delved into hers, piercing, soul-searching blue against warm, hazy brown. His lips against her own in such a sweet, intimate fashion, their eyes locked in a haze of lust and, in that moment, physical devotion. She could feel the tension beginning to build again, could tell by his short breaths and increasingly long kisses that he was feeling it too. It was almost too much. When Emma couldn't bear the pace any longer, couldn't take the agonizing way he was drawing it out, she took control. Her legs unhooked from his waist just long enough to flip them, and she received a certain perverse pleasure in hearing his surprise.

Feeling the moments of divine rush so close, Emma rode him hard, letting herself have what she wanted with reckless abandon. Anyone - Mulan, Aurora, Snow, Cora - could have shown up at that moment, and Emma didn't think she would have stopped. When that divine rush finally came, spreading warmth throughout Emma's body and a white fog throughout her mind, Killian came with her, sitting straight up and thrusting upwards one last time as he kissed her.

Heart pounding, chest heaving, nerve shattering bliss encased them both, Killian leaving affectionate kisses down her collarbone, their bodies slick with sweat. Emma rolled off of him, their bodies separating for the first time in what felt like hours; Emma was reluctant to do so, even despite the ache in her thighs that protested the prolonged contact. Killian wasted no time in curling an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him in the post-coital glow. In her life, Emma had been described as many things, but a cuddler had never been one of them, at least not until then. With her heading resting on his chest, his arm curled around her waist, his chin resting atop her head... Emma felt such contentment as she had never known.

For Killian, this was the first time in over three hundred years that he had known peace - the first time when his mind was nowhere near thoughts of Milah or Rumpelstiltskin.

"Neal," Emma whispered, swallowing an uncomfortable lump in her throat. "His name was Neal."

Killian gently stroked her shoulder with his thumb, planting a small kiss on the top of her head. In the time that he had known this woman, he had learned that she had trust issues, that she had been abandoned and had a fear of abandonment as a result. He knew better than to speak now, knew that interrupting her would cause her to close up.

"We... made quite a team, you might say. We stole what we needed, and sometimes what we didn't, but we did it together,"

"I knew you'd make an excellent pirate," Killian whispered in her ear, attempting to lighten the mood. She chuckled quietly, but the mood grew more somber.

"He'd stolen some watches, very expensive ones, and we were going to fence them for cash - Get new identities, and use the rest to start over together. He put one on my wrist, told me it looked good on me, and would make sure I wasn't late. He went to meet the fence, and I was going to meet him at 9, outside an abandoned building." She trailed off for a moment, the memories all too easy to recall. "I was there on time, but he wasn't. The next thing I know, the police are there, and I'm being arrested for the crime he committed, with a piece of evidence strapped to my wrist."

"He set you up?" There was a coldness to his tone, an hidden rage underneath the calm demeanor.

"Set me up, and never looked back. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant."

Killian's hand stilled, pausing in the soothing motion that had been lulling Emma to sleep. The man had not only abandoned her and set her up, but abandoned her whilst she was pregnant to boot. His jaw tightened. He would not call what he felt for this woman love, it was too soon for that, but he cared enough to be angry on her behalf.

"Well, love," He tilted her chin up and kissed her nose. "I am not that man."

"No, you're not," Emma replied, agreeing.

Killian could still identify the hint of uncertainty lurking beneath her tone. "And I never will be. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets - and I want you,"

Emma snorted. "And you'll, what, fight for me?"

Killian turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised as his eyes trailed over her naked body. "Darling, do I strike you as the type of man to _not_fight?"

Emma looked at him, an eyebrow of her own raised. "I'm going to remind you that you said that, once we get back to Storybrooke,"

"Once _we_get back to Storybrooke?" Killian asked, a questioning, hopeful look on his face.

"Well, I can hardly stop you from tagging along now that you've found us. Speaking of which, how did you find us?" Emma asked, looking at him with a puzzled frown.

"Emma, love, I'll always find you," Killian replied, grinning his trademarked mischievous grin. Emma, huffed, rolling her eyes, unable to stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. He kissed her gently, smiling, and Emma replied in kind. If tonight was all they had before all hell broke loose, they were going to enjoy it.


	3. Breath of Life

**A/n: It only takes once. Emma should know that by now.**

* * *

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Emma went through the motions of breathing deeply, leaning over the sink in the bathroom. They had made it back to Storybrooke three months ago, and things had finally begun to return to a semblance of normalcy. Her parents had moved into an empty apartment a few doors down, deciding to give Emma privacy - and, Emma suspected, themselves some alone time. Henry spent most nights with Emma, occasionally sleeping over at Regina's or with Charming and Snow. Tonight, thank God, was one of the latter. Hook and Aurora had returned with them, both staying at Granny's until they got on their feet.

Their tryst at the lake in the Enchanted Forest had been their last; Emma being too focused on Henry, and Hook on his revenge. They saw each other around town, Emma being the Sheriff and Hook being, well, Hook. Every time he looked at her, she could feel those blue eyes tracing the contours of her body, could sense the places on her skin that his fingertips had touched. It was maddening at times. Her only comfort was that she wasn't the only one suffering; Hook seemed equally affected by her presence too, his adam's apple bobbing every time she looked at him.

They said hello, exchanged pleasantries, said goodbye, keeping their contact to a minimum for the time being. Emma had made it perfectly clear that she couldn't in good conscience allow Killian to harm Mr. Gold. Killian had made it perfectly clear that that was exactly what he planned to do. Ergo, they put space between them. They exchanged looks of lust and longing, kept their distance. Henry, of course, was utterly enamored with the Pirate, who in turn seemed quite charmed by the child as well. On the days when Killian would run into them at Granny's, he would always have something new to teach Henry - some fencing trick, or card trick - and Henry would eat it up, looking at Killian like he was the be all end all of men to aspire to be. Emma found it both adorable and disturbing.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Three months of dancing around each other, of smoldering looks and tender touches, of quiet whispers in dark corners, of stolen moments in the Sheriff's station or on her way home. Gold was still alive, no worse for the wear at all, and Emma couldn't quite pinpoint why. Killian had been waiting for this for three hundred years, and he hadn't even made an attempt. He and Emma were not together. He owed her no promises, no allegiance. It bothered her, in a way, that the reason they had agreed to keep apart was that fundamental disagreement about Gold, and yet he had yet to act on it. And now there was this.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Emma finally dared to look at the stick in her shaking hands, and promptly set it down to the other three on the back of the toilet. PINK. +. PREGNANT. The words stared at her from the three tests she had taken. She slowly let herself sink against the bathroom door, her head in her hands. She had known when they had sex how _stupid_ it was, and yet she had done it anyway. She remembered that sense of euphoric bliss and in that moment, above all else, _damning the consequences. _She was pregnant, with the spawn of Captain Killian "Hook" Jones. Captain Hook. A pirate, _the_ pirate. Christ, she was a magnet for trouble. She stood slowly, throwing all but one test away, and made her way to the kitchen.

She filled the mug with water and microwaved it, waiting until the water began to bubble slightly. She poured in the packet of hot chocolate mix, adding a dash of milk and cinnamon. Her brain was blank as she stirred. What was she going to tell Henry? What was she going to tell _her parents_? Emma cringed at the thought. She sipped her cocoa, one hand resting on her stomach. True, she was certainly in a better position, a better place, than she had been when she had Henry - but not much better. A knock on the door heralded his arrival.

"Come in!" She called out, not quite ready to move from her place behind the counter.

He stuck his head in first, glancing around the empty apartment appraisingly; she had never invited him here before. He entered and shut the door behind him, removing his coat and his boots at the entry way.

"Coffee?" She offered, attempting to distract herself from the conversation they were about to have.

"Sure, love," He replied, grinning. Killian had adjusted quite well to Storybrooke, having many chameleon-esque qualities. He took everything in stride; the clothes, the food, electricity. Everything was a wonder, and everything seemed to suit him. Emma had discovered his addiction to coffee early one morning on her way to work as she stopped in to Granny's, and watched in drink three cups in the space of ten minutes. She poured him a cup of coffee, attempting to decide how exactly she was going to tell him that he was going to be a father. He sat down on the other side of the counter, waiting patiently for Emma to explain. Emma set the cup in front of him, offering him sugar and cream even though she knew that he drank it black.

"Darling, what's going on?"

Emma stopped her nervous pacing. "What do you mean?" She asked, hating the stutter that came out of her mouth.

Killian raised his eyebrows, looking at her with that knowing smile of his. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that - quid pro quo, remember dear - and ask you again. What's going on? You've never invited me to your abode before, and I've been here for nigh three months." There was a certain lilt in his voice, a certain note in his tone, that sounded vaguely like hurt. Killian stirred in a single teaspoon of sugar in his coffee - which Emma knew to be uncharacteristic for him - and took a sip.

"I'm pregnant." Emma blurted out, unable to keep the words behind her teeth.

Killian choked on his coffee, keeping his mouth closed and swallowing the remainder of the liquid with slight trouble. "What?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"Pregnant. Tiny human."

"What? How?" He repeated, looking more confused.

Emma rolled her eyes, somewhat impatiently. "Remember, three months ago? Lake."

His lips twitched upward into a smirk for half a second, his mouth opening to doubtless drop some kind of innuendo, but stopped, the words seeming to sink in.

"Ah. How do you know?" He asked; Emma attempted to detect some sort of disbelief or reluctance to accept responsibility, but could only sense curiosity.

She produced the test from her pocket, the word PREGNANT glaring at them from the tiny screen. "I took three of them and they're all positive," She took a short breath and set her cup of cocoa down, moving around the counter to stand next to him. "And I'm showing a little," She admitted reluctantly, standing to the side. The bump wasn't large by any means, but it was there and visible to those who knew the difference between a pregnancy bump and gaining a few pounds.

Killian stared at it, cocking his head to the side in nothing less than pure fascination. He stood, setting his coffee to the side, and approached Emma, kneeling in front of her. Emma swallowed uncomfortably; the last time she had been pregnant, Neal had been gone and the only one to put hands on her swollen stomach had been her and the doctor. His hand came up slowly, resting on the bump from the outside of her t-shirt. After a moment of intense reflection, his hand moved underneath her shirt and rested on the bare skin of her swollen stomach. She shivered slightly at the contact, her hormones reminding her exactly of where those hands had been.

"I've always wanted a child," He confessed softly, a slight, genuine smile lighting up his face. He stood, looking at her with warmth and affection. "A pirate ship is no place to raise a child, and Milah never wanted anymore..." He trailed off, sighing. "I'm not going to leave, Emma," He told her, seeing her insecurity.

Emma said nothing, not quite sure how to respond. Instead, she merely gave him a half smile, drawing her hot cocoa towards her and taking a sip. "Where do we go from here?"

He grinned at her repetition of his words, and sat back down, taking a sip of his coffee. "Well, I think you need to accept the fact that I'm not going anywhere, love,"

"Aren't you though?" Emma questioned, looking down. "You've been here for three months, but you haven't taken your revenge. Why?"

"If I take my revenge, you will have to arrest me yes?" He asked her, though she was certain he already knew the answer.

"Yes," She replied honestly. "I'm the Sheriff, the physical manifestation of the law - it's my job."

"That's why," He replied, looking down for a moment and avoiding eye contact. "The moment that I take my revenge, you and I will be on opposite sides of the board again. I won't spend the rest of my life in a prison cell, and you would spend the rest of your life attempting to put me there. And I cannot bear the thought of it,"

"Killian," Emma began, frowning.

He raised a hand to prevent her from speaking. "Just... let me finish, please. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. What exactly am I gaining by killing Rumpelstiltskin? Milah is dead, and she is not coming back. And the only thing that I want to fight for now is you, and our child - killing Rumpelstiltskin isn't going to help me achieve that. The battles I fight for you will not be fought with Rumpelstiltskin - more likely, they will be fought with your father," He snorted, scoffing.

"What exactly are you saying?" Emma asked, not understanding.

"I'm saying that being with you brought me peace, Emma. Peace I haven't known for over three hundred years. I told you three months ago that I wanted you - that hasn't changed. I have watched you for three months, at the station, walking Henry to school, at Granny's, and my desire for you hasn't waned. I love you,"

"You don't know me," Emma reminded him gently. "You met me three months ago!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Your parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and you don't believe in love at first sight?"

Emma shook her head, exasperated. "No, I don't."

"Well I do," He stated, and Emma knew he wasn't lying. "And I love you," He wasn't lying. "It's taken me three months to accept it, to accept that I want you more than I want my revenge, but I have accepted it."

"Okay, great," Emma said, somewhat sharply. "So what now? We just move in together, get married, be one big happy family?"

"Hardly. You're not ready for that yet," He said assuredly, smiling. "But I'd settle for a date, for now."

"A date?" Emma asked incredulously.

"One step at a time, love," He replied, leaning over the counter suddenly to kiss her gently.

Emma sighed into the kiss, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, before drawing back and giving him an exasperated look. He merely grinned at her.

"Have you told your parents yet?" He asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"No, not yet," She replied warily, frowning.

"Can I do it?" He asked instantly, his expression one of slyness and mischief - it was one she had seen on Henry's face quite often.

"Can you not antagonize my parents?" She asked, rolling her eyes, not really responding to his request.

"But my dear princess, it's so much fun!" His voice rose, mimicking Aurora's high pitched tone.

Emma snorted and looked at him dryly. "No, I think it would be best if I tell them."

He pouted, his face comically sad. "Can I at least be in the room?"

"Are you sure you want to be?" Emma asked, her lips twitching upwards into a slight smirk. "I hear my father has quite a right hook,"

He rolled his eyes at her, raising an eyebrow. "How long have you been waiting to use that pun?" He asked dryly, mildly amused.

"Awhile," Emma confessed, grinning. She sighed, taking a sip of her now cool hot cocoa. "But in all seriousness, Killian, what are we going to do?"

He smiled at her sweetly, leaning forward until his forehead rested against hers - an action that Emma was quickly finding extremely familiar and affectionate. "You, me, and our little breath of life in there," He pressed a gentle hand to her abdomen. "Are going to take it one day at a time, one step at a time."

She let him kiss her, let herself give in and kiss him back. As she drew back, she could see the mischief in his eyes and sighed. "You _really_ want to tell my parents don't you?"

He grinned, his face beaming with excitement and wickedness. "I _really_ do."

Emma finished her hot cocoa and took a step back, drawing Killian backwards with her. "Let's go then," She said, resigned to the fact that her boyfriend - fiance, baby-daddy? - was about to get punched in the face by her father, and didn't seem to care.

He took her hand in his and opened the door for her, his gaze lingering on the curve of her abdomen, a smile on his face. For that moment in time, both felt the same peace they had at the lake that night three moons ago. And, for the first time in either of their lives, it felt like everything was going to be alright.

Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

A/N: Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks!


	4. No Turning Back

Emma stood outside her parents' door, staring at the fresh paint and the welcome mat in the hall.

"Are we going to go in, or are we just going to stand outside their door?"

"Shut up," She grumbled, smacking him gently across the chest. "I've never had to do this before."

"You still don't," Killian countered, grinning mischievously.

She chuckled, his light-hearted response calming her nerves a little. She swallowed her nervousness and rapped twice on the door, feeling that tingling fear creeping up her spine. She wanted to bolt. Just as she might have taken off down the hall, Killian slid his arm around her waist, tucking her firmly into his side. He winked at her and kissed the side of her head. "Easy, love, it'll be alright."

The door opened and it was her father who answered, his large smile diminishing when he noted the closeness of the two. "Emma, this is a surprise! Come on in!" He welcomed her warmly, extending his arm forward, ignoring Killian completely.

Snow was in the kitchen washing dishes, soap bubbles up to her elbows. "Emma!" She exclaimed, smiling when she laid eyes on her daughter. Like her husband, that smile diminished slightly when she saw Killian.

"Hello Hook." Snow greeted him, politely if coolly.

Emma swallowed and felt that intense fear creep up her spine; she shared a look with Killian, who gave her a reassuring smile.

"So what's up?" Charming asked, curiosity seeping into his tone. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, everything is...fine, just fine..." Emma stuttered, and internally cursed herself for her nerves.

"Sweetheart, that doesn't sound very reassuring. What's wrong?" Snow asked, frowning in concern. She dried her hands and came to stand beside her husband.

"Nothing's wrong," Emma stated more firmly. "It's not...bad," She took a breath and opened her mouth to tell them, to actually admit to her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, that she had gotten knocked up by Captain Hook, and promptly closed it. She shook her head wildly, her large eyes going to Killian. He raised an eyebrow, smirking, as though to ask for permission. Emma felt like a coward not being able to admit it her parents and wound up doing exactly what she had to Killian.

"I'm pregnant!" She blurted out, letting the words fall from her mouth, before snapping her jaw shut.

Her parents just looked at her. "What?"

"Pregnant. Me. I'm pregnant." Emma repeated, cringing slightly, feeling her nerves shatter and tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes.

"Okay, okay," Snow said, sweetly, smiling at Emma. "It's okay. It's going to be alright," She stepped forward and pulled Emma into her arms, embracing her tightly.

"Who?" Charming's question, which came out in between curious and shocked, answered it self. Emma didn't reply, but her glance to Killian did not escape Charming's notice.

"You!" Charming bellowed, his face beginning to turn red. There were no more words spoken - only a single punch, thrown from Charming's now-infamous right hand directly into Killian's face. Emma sighed; she called it.

"Charming!" Snow exclaimed, stepping away from Emma, looking at her husband disapprovingly. Killian rubbed his jaw from his place on the floor, still managing to look self-satisfied with what had occurred. Charming exhaled and turned away, scratching his head. Turning back, he sighed, and, still glowering, offered Killian a hand up. Killian reluctantly took it, and brushed himself off once standing.

"See love? Nothing to be worried about," Killian remarked, kissing the side of her head when she gave him an exasperated yet affectionate look.

Snow pulled her daughter into another hug and murmured. "He's right. There's nothing to be worried about." She pulled back, tucking a strand of Emma's hair behind her ear. "You're not alone, Emma, and you can do this." She denounced the insecurities Emma had been harboring. "Your family is here for you, and so is Killian, and we're not going anywhere."

"That's right," Charming reiterated his wife's statement. "We're not going anywhere. And neither is Killian," Though he was smiling, the tone of his second sentence changed to something slightly more threatening; he laid a firm hand on Killians shoulder, gripping it tightly.

Emma laughed, her relief apparent on her face. She hugged her mother tightly, feeling all the tension leave her body, a few tears of relief and joy escaping her eyes.

"Now, how about some cocoa?" Emma nodded emphatically, letting her mother lead her to the kitchen table.

The door opening alerted the women that the men were stepping out, though Killian did not appear willing to leave.

"Killian and I are going to take a walk," Charming said, radiating serenity, guiding Killian out the door. Killian peered over Charming's shoulder as his back turned, shaking his head emphatically, his eyes pleading for rescue. Emma shrugged and sipped her coca, mouthing 'You asked for it.' with a smile.

When the door clicked shut behind them, both women burst into giggles. After their laughter had subsided, Snow took a short breath and raised an eyebrow.

"A pirate, Emma? Can't you do anything conventionally?" She teased, smiling.

"Because your fairytale was so conventional?" Emma asked, eyeing her mother knowingly.

"Fair point," Snow acquiesced. "But, Emma, you know that you don't have to be with him just because you're pregnant. You can still turn back,"

Emma knew that her mother was only trying to tell her she had options, to remind her that she had options. But when she thought about the options, she could only help but wrinkle her nose. She chuckled a little, as the realization hit her. As her chuckle escalated into a laugh, her mother raised both eyebrows.

"It's true, Emma. You have options!"

Emma swallowed slightly, her mind still reeling from the epiphany. She shook her head, still laughing a little. "No, I don't." She bit her lip, smiling. "I love him. There's no turning back now."

Seven months later, Emma gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Charlotte Mary-Margaret Swan Jones (affectionately called "Charlie" by her close friends and family). The child was a beautiful combination of her parents - her mother's sunkissed hair, her father's stormy grey-blue eyes, and, as remarked by many, a frightening surplus of their combined intelligence and charm.

Henry, naturally, was taken with her the moment she was born, and stepped into the role of over-protective big brother as readily as he had stolen his grandmother's credit card and showed up on his birth mother's doorstep. Charlotte was succeeded by two younger brothers, rambunctious twins who got into more trouble than Killian or Emma could keep up with.

Snow and Charming themselves were blessed with two more children over the years, only a few years apart from Charlotte and the twins - keeping them just as busy as they had ever wanted to be. They weren't perfect, but they were family, and they were together - and that was all that really matter in the end.

And, they all live happily ever after.

The End.


End file.
